


A Garden View

by AlleiraDayne



Series: Bang Your Head (Metal Health) [11]
Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Modern: No Powers, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Modern Era, Modern Thedas, Smut, Smut Prompt, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-01
Updated: 2016-01-01
Packaged: 2018-05-10 22:44:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,636
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5603680
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlleiraDayne/pseuds/AlleiraDayne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Amallia and Cullen stumble upon their friends, Alistair and Amodisia, in the middle of a private moment.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Garden View

**Author's Note:**

> For @Transfigurations12, moon of my life, who prompted me months ago from the Smutty Prompt list on Tumblr.

_There._

She heard it again and she absolutely knew that voice.

“Are you shitting me?” she hissed as her pace slowed to a halt.

Cullen stopped next to her abruptly, bumping into her shoulder. His eyes followed her stare to the large open window across the hall. “What is it?”

The Theirin's home was massive, and the two of them had taken it upon themselves to traipse the grounds while Alistair was meeting with other officials and Amodisia tended to the media as she did so well. The garden had piqued Amallia’s interest from the moment Sia had mentioned it, but now she wondered if that remark had been some sort of inside joke between her and Alistair.

The high, soft moan of Amodisia’s feminine voice drifted in through the open windows surrounding the garden. Definitely an inside joke, Amallia decided, and when she turned to Cullen, the abject terror plain on his face nearly blew their cover, for Amallia had to clamp her mouth shut with her free hand lest her barking guffaw echo to the gardens below.

She motioned to Cullen to remain silent, a finger against puckered lips, and she stepped lightly towards the window. The tug of his hand on hers drew her attention back over her shoulder where she found his embarrassment reddening his cheeks.

“Just a peak. One second?” she whispered, pleading, and Cullen acquiesced with a deep sigh.

Amallia edged along the wall to the nearest window and leaned over to take a brief scan of the garden a level below. She saw nothing at first, just the landscape of the paths between plants, but then more moans, coupled with a few harsh grunts, emanated from behind a large shrub just beneath the window.

She tugged Cullen along behind her, swift steps racing three windows down to the end of the hall. From the far side of the last window, she flattened herself against the wall and peaked over the edge of the sill.

“Maker’s breath,” Cullen gasped behind her and a soft moan of her own slipped past her lips at the rumble of his voice through her chest.

Or was it the sight of their friends that had aroused her? Completely bare and bodies entangled on the garden bench such that it was difficult to tell where one ended and the other began, Alistair and Amodisia were _quite_ a sight to behold.

She couldn’t stop staring, eyes wide and breath caught in her throat as she gaped. The act, the risk shot a steady stream of heat to her core, and for a second, Amallia wished she were in her friend’s place. Long, languid rolls from Alistair’s hips heated her cheeks, nearly unbearable, but she dared not look away. A soft brush of his lips on Amodisia’s ankle – Maker, how _flexible_ – had her whimpering for more, nearly begging Alistair to give her more pleasure.

Wrong. Everything about it was absolutely wrong. But Amallia couldn’t move, enthralled by the steadily increasing thrust of Alistair’s hips, the slap of their bodies echoing across the garden. She willed her own body to move but it simply wouldn’t respond. It was too busy responding to the sight below and the sounds coupled with it. Absently, her thighs squeezed together, that familiar ache attempting to ease itself.

Thank the Maker for his hands, for _both_ of them, and thank the Maker once more for Cullen’s quick wit to use one to cover her mouth as the other slipped over her hip and tugged her to him roughly. Her moan remained trapped behind his hand as the firm bulge in his pants rolled between her cheeks.

“Hush, now, pup,” he whispered in her ear, breath scalding her skin. She whimpered softly and writhed under his grip, but he held her fast. “You wouldn’t want them to hear _us_ now. Would you?” The hand at her hip slipped up to her breast, cupping the heavy weight and kneading the supple flesh through her yellow sundress.

No. There was no way. Not _there_. Amallia knew Cullen had a penchant for risky, nigh public places to take her, but right there? She answered her own question when she looked over her shoulder as he removed his hand from her mouth, furrowed brow rising up in renewed shock at the blazing lust in his golden gaze.

There was no denying it. The sight of their friends, their rutting bodies and wanton sounds had done the same to him as it had done to her. Without warning, the wall next to the window pressed against her back, and her head thumped hard on the wood as Cullen pinned her there, a greedy roll of his hips against her core furthering her arousal.

“Cullen,” she whispered, a coy smirk spreading across her lips as his brushed along her jaw. “Did you enjoy that? Do you like watching them?” Nimble fingers dipped beneath his belt, tugging him closer, and he parted her thigs with his own, lifting her slightly as his eyes darted to the window again.

Amallia followed his glare, peaking over the edge of the trim to find Amodisia straddling Alistair’s lap, riding him hard and fast, high whimpering moans sounding more frequently, sharper and shorter with each thrust. His name fell from her lips, barely coherent strings of begging for more as he thrust his hips into her with increasing speed.

“Do that to me, Cullen,” Amallia whispered into his ear and she felt his chest heave against hers. “Fuck me like he fucks her.”

His low, rumbling growl had her looking to the window again. Their friends hadn’t heard a thing, so enthralled by each other, Alistair’s face buried in Amodisia’s large breasts. Cullen slipped a hand into her hair, gripping tightly, and his grasp tilted her face back to his while exposing the pale swathe of flesh that was her neck. He devoured her, teeth and lips and tongue, all the while his entire body tightly pressing against hers writhing between him and the wall as her fingers carded through his hair.

“Tell me,” Amallia hissed a gasp at his nipping teeth. “Tell me what they’re doing now.”

Disheveled curls brushed past her face as Cullen looked up again and she watched as his eyes widened. A twitch at his groin and an absent roll of his hips said more than words could. His lips returned to her neck, trailing up to her jaw as he spoke.

“Alistair likes to lead it seems,” he started. “He’s bent his lovely wife over the arm of the bench, grasped her by her hair,” he paused tugging at hers firmly again, “And he’s pounding his cock into her from behind.”

“Cullen! So _dirty!_ ” she admonished playfully, voice full of their lust. “Does the sight of them excite you so?” Though she asked, she knew the answer, for the tight bulge of his pants twitched between her hand as she rubbed along his length.

Another absent roll of his hips followed his growling moan. “ _Yes_. I could watch them until they finished. Maker’s breath, but they are beautiful,” he sighed as his eyes returned to the window once more.

Amallia hummed her own sigh, all too familiar with Cullen’s thoughts. “And you wanted to leave,” she jested, prodding him, and his glare turned back to hers, molten lust darkening the gold to a deep amber. A hand slipped to the small of her back and she arched into him, core grinding against his muscled thigh. Her panting breaths started again and before she could do anything about it, an unchecked moan echoed down the hall.

A hitch, the briefest of breaks in Alistair’s thrusts, and then she heard that blasted girlish giggle of Sia’s wend its way up to the window. Amallia chanced a look over the trim once more to find them both on their knees, Alistair gripping his wife by the hips as his thrusts picked up again.

Amodisia was looking straight at her, at _them_ , a coy smile on her lips as she _waved_. Over her shoulder, she mumbled to Alistair and with a quick glance upwards, he saw them, too, and laughed.

Amallia and Cullen retreated out of sight, and she saw the reddening embarrassment spreading across Cullen’s cheeks. She knew her face must match, shade for shade, but she didn’t have the chance to think on it long; Cullen’s lips crashed down upon hers, his need for her taking control. Powerful hands gripped her ass hard, picking her up and carrying her away from the wall.

A loan door at the end of the hall was blessedly unlocked, and beyond was a large spare bedroom, canopied bed and floor to ceiling windows heavily draped with blue fabric. But Cullen made no move for the bed, instead turning for the nearby chaise and laid Amallia upon it.

“So convenient,” Amallia said with her own girlish giggle as she reached for Cullen’s belt. “I wonder if they’ve fucked in here, too.”

“You know they have,” Cullen mumbled into her neck, voice horse and deep with need. “They’ve probably done it right here, right where I’ve put you. I can … see her laying beneath me.”

Amallia grinned at the thought. “Oh. Do you imagine her in my place?”

His face reddened further. “I might …”

With his belt freed, she gave it a mighty tug, stripping it away and throwing it to the floor. Buttons and zipper undone, her hands slipped past his pants to rub along the length of his erection.

“That’s alright,” she whispered. “As long as I’m allowed to think of … of him. Towering over me. Maker, he’s monstrous.”

 _That_ had grasped Cullen’s attention harder than she grasped at his cock. “I’m not much shorter.”

She stroked him in time with the absent rolling of his hips and laughed at his defiance. “No. But he’s … bigger.”

“I’ve seen him naked, you know,” Cullen stated flatly.

“And I haven’t.”

“We’re actually the same si – wait, what?”

She laughed again, the same lilting song. “I’ve never seen Alistair naked, Cullen. That there, in the garden? That was the first time. Sia, on the other hand … I’ve seen _plenty_ of her.”

His eyes widened in understanding and his mouth worked, words failing him only for a groan to drag from his chest. “Oh, Mal. I … I didn’t know.”

She shrugged. “And I knew you didn’t. We’ve never talked about it. But another time,” she insisted as she shoved his pants to his knees. “There’s no way you’re not finishing this now.”

His grin returned then, fiery amber eyes ablaze once more. Demanding fingers grasped at her dress, dragging it up over her head and discarding it with his belt. She thanked the Maker she’d made the effort to match her underwear and bra that day, purple and lacey and sheer. She watched as Cullen drank her in with his loving amber eyes, and she couldn’t help be writhe beneath him, hips rolling to ease the ache between her thighs.

In a flash, Cullen disrobed to his shorts, black briefs clinging to his thighs and he stood before her, the shape of his length framed by the fabric. Amallia sat up, legs parting as she pulled him towards her. His musk consumed her in a heady rush, heat pooling at her core again, and her toes curled against the wood floor in anticipation. Without ceremony, she grasped the band of his briefs and tugged them down to his ankles.

The moment she saw him she couldn’t help but think of what he’d said only moments before. They were the same size. They’d compared. She barely contained her laugh, smile masking how humorous she found the idea of the two of them standing together, cocks in hand, and scrutinizing each other.

Naked. _Holy Andraste,_ Cullen and Alistair, naked together, and soon her thoughts ran wild with the idea, Alistair’s hands on Cullen, their lips touching, both grasping at the other’s swollen lengths. Tugging, stroking, thrusting. A squeeze of her thighs and her underwear was ruined.

“What are you thinking about?” Cullen asked, wary.

Realty returned abruptly, face level with his groin and she grinned. “I’ll tell you later,” she mumbled with a smirk as she grasped the base of his cock and stroked softly. Her touch brought Cullen to keening within seconds, low moans following as her lips wrapped around the engorged crown, cheeks hollowing as she sucked the length of him into her mouth.

“ _Fuck_ ,” he hissed. “I … please, stop.”

Immediately, she released him, looking up with a worried frown. “What?” she asked. “Did I do something wrong?”

“No,” he insisted with a soft laugh. “The exact opposite. I’m so close. I haven’t done anything for you.”

Such consideration for her pleasure, as always. She smiled to reassure him. “Cullen, you do _plenty_ for me. But I understand. Take me to the bed?”

His appreciative smile melted her heart; rare it was that there weren’t multiple orgasms in store for her with Cullen. With the risk, however, Amallia was content with simply feeling the fullness of him inside her.

The powerful grip of his hands returned to her ass, picking her up and carrying her to the bed. Gently, he laid her down again, fingers hooking into her thong and pulling it off. She raised her ankles up and he removed the fabric from there, bringing it to his nose and inhaling deeply. His eyes rolled into the back of his head, relishing her feminine scent with a groan.

When he went to kneel before her, Amallia sat up, a firm hand at his shoulder. “We may not have time for all of this …”

“But, I … oh, I want to taste you so badly,” he mewled as his fingers brushed her sex. “Maker, you’re sopping.” The tips of his first two fingers reflected the nectar of her arousal as he rushed them to his mouth, lips sealing around to suck and he moaned his delight of the taste as he slowly withdrew both digits.

“I told you,” Amallia insisted, her own sigh a soft, short huff. “You do _plenty_ for me. Now,” she demanded as she grasped his hand and pulled it towards her bra. “Take this damn thing off and _fuck_ me.”

With a growl, his lips met her flesh in a rush, fingers prying apart the clasp of her bra and flinging it away, immediately forgotten. The heat at her core, bundled so tightly, began to unravel as Cullen’s grasping hands and deep moans consumed her. Time and risk forgotten, Amallia laid back as Cullen kneeled over her on the bed, lifting her up with him and turning her over.

On her front, Amallia looked over her shoulder as Cullen straddled her thighs, one hand firmly grasping a cheek and spreading her seam, the other at the base of his cock. The head of his erection met her core, rubbing along the slit and arousal spreading along the length. Her entire body shuddered, toes curling again and hips rolling.

A sharp slap stung as the flat of Cullen’s hand struck her ass and she cried out, the perfect blend of pain and pleasure. And then the heavy press of his erection returned, slipping between the slick folds of her cunt. She cried out in ecstasy, only for her excited gasp to cut off abruptly as the heat of Cullen’s body met her back and his clamped over her mouth.

“You can’t let them hear you, pup,” he whispered in her ear and gooseflesh broke out across her entire body, his breath so hot on her sensitive skin. Behind his hand, she whimpered another acquiescing moan, nodding her head. She would try to keep quiet, but Amallia knew how spectacularly should would fail in the attempt. Still, she’d try.

Lips pursed tightly and eyes screwed shut as he released her, she rested her head on the mattress as her arms reached out to grasp at the sheets. With one long, languid pull, Cullen withdrew from her, almost completely, and then thrust back in, fast and hard. Their bodies met in a reverberating slap and she cried out a soft whimper, head swimming with lust and toes curling once more.

“Quiet,” Cullen reminded her in a sing-song voice, taunting her. His grasp at her hips lifted her and she rolled them, arching her spine to better meet his thrusts, and they came faster, deeper with the improved angle.

Short, staccato, panting moans escaped her lips in time with his thrusts, mingling with the sounds of their bodies slapping together. She sucked in a quick breath, trying to remain quiet as Cullen grasped at a breast and rolled the pink peak taut between thumb and forefinger. And then, as predicted, she moaned a long, keening sigh as his other hand snaked over her hip to dip between her thighs and tease the swollen bundle of nerves at her apex. Anybody remotely nearby would have heard that and she buried her face in the mattress as her entire body shuddered under his touch, the heat of her climax nearing.

Cullen merely laughed, a low chuckle deep in his chest, but it quickly turned into a moan of his own as Amallia rose up to her knees, legs spreading further and pushing his apart. If he wanted to play that game, she would meet him with an equal lack of mercy. The entire house would hear them once she had her way with him, and she knew he would enjoy every second of it.

On her hands and knees, she rocked back, hips rolling and back arching then bowing as she took over their pace. She thrust herself onto him, stroking the length of his cock with her slick velvet folds, walls flexing to extract every moan and grunt and whimper out of him possible. Over her shoulder, she saw Cullen’s head loll back in a rush of pleasure, eyes rolling closed and mouth falling open. Maker, but he was struggling to maintain control of his own sounds, voice horse and barely above a whisper.

There was no way she would let him tease her, make her howl with pleasure, and escape without making a sound of his own. No, she was determined to make him cry out her name, repeatedly, and they weren’t leaving the room until he did.

A swift pull of her hips and she withdrew herself from him in a rush, so fast that Cullen nearly fell forward. He startled, eyes popping open, and he glared at her as if to demand why she had stopped. She turned onto her back and climbed up to the head of the bed and Cullen followed, licking his lips and hands groping his own body with a hunger that clearly required her to sate.

“Lay down, love,” she whispered as she smoothed the sheets beside her. “You’ve done _all_ the work.” _That_ had gotten a rise out of him, a twitch of his cock and a quirk of his head. Truly, it had been her that had worked them along the last few minutes, and she wasn’t about to stop.

When he finally laid down, Amallia wasted not a second in returning to him, straddling his hips but with her back to him. Between her thighs and angled perfectly against her seam, his entire erection pressed and she rolled her hips to stroke. The engorged flesh of the crown teased her swollen bud, and she rocked her hips a little faster, her climax returning near to its peak.

She pitched forward onto his thighs as Cullen sat up abruptly, his hand slapping both cheeks as he grasped them and hauled her up. “Put me back inside of you, pup,” he growled, fingertips biting into her supple flesh a little deeper.

“Oh, so _eager_ , now,” she teased as she slid her hand down the length of his cock, tip to base, where she grasped him tightly. “Like this?” she asked as she angled the crown to her heat, lips spreading to accommodate him.

When he released her, Amallia thought he was about to lay back but instead, the fullness of him returned two-fold as he thrust his hips up into her with a deafening smack of their flesh. He grunted, a little louder than last time, and she stifled her own cry of shock behind both hands tightly covering her gaping mouth.

His thighs trembled with the weight until they gave out, slumping back onto the bed as he fell to his back. Nails dug and bit, leaving red runnels along his thighs as Amallia sat up, back arched and the long fall of her purple curls tumbling down the curve of her spine.

Now. It had to be now, she had him in the perfect spot, and she knew he would no longer maintain the tight control he usually did during their riskier adventures. Hips and thighs flexing, she rose up, legs pushing against the bed for leverage. Quickly, she gained speed, bouncing atop him and stroking his cock with each thrust. She felt his needy hands return to her cheeks, pinching and clawing and grasping and _slapping_.

The short panting breaths returned, soft whimpering moans again, but this time she was not alone. Cullen moaned with her, soft grunts with each slap of their bodies, and he babbled nonsense to her, insisting she keep going, _faster, hard, fuck me, Mal, yes, like that, ride my cock_.

With those words, she steeled herself, preparing for what she knew would come next. There was no way Cullen would let her leave with just one orgasm, so when he sat up again, she had been ready. His right arm wrapped over her hip and the flat of his fingers met the slick arousal at her clit, the bundle of nerves so swollen and sensitive. The other arm wrapped up under hers to grasp her left breast, fingers cold and wet from his own mouth.

She slowed only for a second, until he was comfortable, then returned full-speed to her thrusts, bouncing on him and oh, Maker, did she moan. Long, keening sighs coupled with his growling groans, interrupted only by the rhythm of their bodies. The lascivious sounds echoed in the cavernous room and then traveled along, wending its way through the open door and down the hall.

Andraste’s _knickers_ , the door was open.

And someone – _two_ someone’s – were watching.

The faces at the crack in the door disappeared, but someone spoke. “Ah, I think she saw us,” a deep mischievous voice muttered with a chuckle.

“Shut _up_ , Alistair!” a distinctly feminine voice hissed and was followed by a sharp smack.

Amallia froze as did Cullen, but when they waited, nothing else happened. The room was as silent as it had been loud not three seconds prior, and the faces at the door had not returned. But she knew they’d hidden themselves just out of sight, lying in wait for them to continue.

A gasping moan broke free from her throat as Cullen’s fingers – both at her core and her stiffened peak – twitched, beginning again their ministrations. “Keep going, pup,” he whispered in her ear. “Ignore them. They ignored us.

Without a second thought, Amallia flexed her thighs again, lifting herself up and she felt the heat of his erection glide along her walls. With a few slow thrusts, she returned to her original pace until she could handle it no longer. Toes curled, muscles twitched with spasms, and the heat at her core burst apart, a raging inferno that consumed every inch of her being.

Her back arched, head thrown back on his shoulder and she cried out a long, high moan, as her entire body shook under her orgasm. When her walls flexed in aftershock, she felt the thick, throbbing length of Cullen yet inside her, and his fingers hadn’t stopped their teasing, still rolling and rubbing furiously.

 When she thought she could handle no more, Amallia felt the roll of Cullen’s hips, his swelling flesh slipping into her a little further and she whimpered at the overwhelming sensation. His hands slipped down to her ass once more, grasping her tightly and holding her up as he lay back. Her head spun in anticipation, foggy with the lingering high of her orgasm, but she wouldn’t have to wait any longer when Cullen slowly withdrew from her, then thrust back in, hard and deep.

His thrusts gained speed, thighs slapping against the supple flesh of her ass, and Cullen _moaned_. Not a grunt or a growl, but a true, sighing, ecstatic moan. He thrusted faster, harder, and Amallia felt him swell a little further, twitching as his release inched closer.

Her own arousal returned in full, rocketing towards another climax as Cullen pistoned into her from beneath her, his whimpering moans the sweetest music to her ears. His voice crept higher, each moan a little lighter in pitch with every thrust, and her own mewling cries mixed with his.

And then he cried out her name; not “pup”, not “Mal”. _Amallia_. He sang it to the heavens, voice raw with carnal need and he throbbed within her with one more deep thrust. Her walls flexed uncontrollably, and she moaned with him, unraveling atop him once more as he came, hot spurts of his seed filling her with each throb of his cock.

For a moment, they hung there, suspended each on their soaring highs, until they could support each other no longer. Amallia rose to her knees and parted from, only to return a second later as she collapsed half-atop him, a leg entwined with his and an arm draped over his chest. Her head nestled on his shoulder and Maker, there was no feeling in the world compared to _that_.

His arms wrapped around her, shoulder and waist, pulling her to him tightly. A contended sigh heaved from his chest, heart yet thumping rapidly, and Amallia could have fallen asleep there had the moment not been interrupted.

A single pair of hands slipped between the door and the trim, clapping furiously and quickly followed by a resounding, “Woohoo!”

Cullen plucked a pillow from behind his head and launched it across the room, hitting the bodiless pair of hands square.

“GET BENT, ALISTAIR!”

“Too late for that, mate!” his voice rang from the hallway as he and Amodisia ran off like children caught doing something naughty. Well, they were. So very _naughty_.

Cullen slumped back onto the bed, Amallia returning to her position at his side. “I suppose we can stay here as long as we like, now,” she suggested.

“Oh?” he asked. “Is that so?” He turned to his side and, with a hand at her hip, rolled Amallia to her back. “Does that mean we have time for … other things?” His hand slipped down her thigh, brushing past her core, teasing.

Her breath caught in her throat and she responded with brief hesitation. “Cullen, I …”

His fingers brushed past her sex once more, lingering a little this time and the little ball of pleasure just below her navel returned, flaring to life as if it had not been extinguished mere moments ago.

“Pup?” he asked with a tone that demanded an answer. When she looked to him, his amber gaze held nothing but a desire to please her, his smile warm and inviting, and that was all it took. Her legs spread as her knees pulled apart and Cullen was between them in a flash.

“I’m a little sensitive yet. Go easy on me?” she asked with a breathless whisper as she watched his lips near hers and a grin hooked into them, impishly. His whispered breath against her heat sent a shockwave of pleasure over her entire body.

“Never.”


End file.
